


Forgiveness After Death

by QuickSilverFox3



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Character Development, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Injury Recovery, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-25 12:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18261110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickSilverFox3/pseuds/QuickSilverFox3
Summary: Faraday asks for forgiveness from Goodnight following the Battle of Rose Creek





	Forgiveness After Death

A new day dawned, golden light slipping over Rose Creek and drawing the townspeople from the beds into a world that still held the hazy quality of a dream. The town held the heavy scars of the recent battle, buildings fire blackened and bullet ridden, and yet they moved on. 

It was into this world of pain Faraday woke, flames burning down his side just as fiercely as they had done when the dynamite first exploded. He bit back a groan of pain, feeling his eyes roll backwards into his head, muscles twisting and contorting with the effort. Blindly he groped for the bottle abandoned last night, his left hand clumsy and stiff, the right bound up in heavy bandages.  
"I see you're awake boy," Goodnight drawled, sounding annoyingly awake. Faraday cracked an eye, wincing at the daggers the soft morning light fired into his skull. Goodnight was propped up on pillows Billy had previously liberated with enough care that it had made Faraday's heart hurt to watch the man limp determinedly, half leaning on the crutch the doctor had forced upon him. 

  
"Should be getting your bandages off today," Goodnight continued, seeing Faraday's gaze upon him, tipping back his head to blow a coil of sweet smoke towards the ceiling, coughing towards the end.  
"How 'bout you?" Faraday coughed out, spit coming black despite the doctor's best efforts to clear his lungs.  
Goodnight chuckled.  
"I'm still stuck here. Can't really be running off anywhere," he said, tapping one long finger at the wood and metal contraption wrapped around both his legs.  
The door creaked as it swung upon, still hanging onto its hinges by the thinnest silver of wood. Sam's spurs rang as he moved into the room, Vasquez hot on his heels.  
"Doc's on his way," Sam told the pair, dark eyes heavy on them, "He wants both of you, ready to move and alone."  
A hush followed his words, gaze fixed on Goodnight who was trying to look as innocent as a guilty man could. Billy slowly raised his head up from the other side of Goodnight, a spill of loose black hair followed by a single dark eye peaking over Goodnight's chest.  
"That means you need to be out of here Billy. You nearly stabbed him last time," Sam said, Vasquez biting back peals of laughter behind him at their comrades expense.  
Billy pushed himself up, movement as fluid as ever and retrieved his crutch from the headboard.  
"He should have known better," he said with a shrug, moving to his feet with one hand resting on Goodnight's offered one, fingers running across his palm before Billy limped away towards Sam.  
"How'd he even get in here?" Faraday asked Vasquez in mild amazement, eyeing the previously heavy chain that had been looped through the outside handles. Vasquez shrugged, hands spreading even as a wicked grin spilled across his face, cigar clamped between his teeth.  
"Now behave before he gets here,” Sam said, eyes flicking between Faraday and Goodnight, 

It was more directed towards Billy who snorted, clapping Vasquez on the shoulder and the trio slipped out of the doors.

"Your man seems attached," Faraday observed to Goodnight, not failing to notice the way he stiffened.  
"We've been through a lot together," Goodnight replied after a telling few seconds, "It's only natural for folks to grow close."  
He flicked the worn butt of his cigarette into the ashtray with practiced ease, barely even missing a beat as he drew another one, offering it to Faraday with a flick of his wrist, a peace offering or a request for silence if ever Faraday saw one.  
"I won't say nothing," he said, carefully tucking the bottle into his side, stretching out to accept the cigarette, "After everything, reckon I owe you an apology."  
"I may need to ask the fine doctor if hallucinations are a common side effect of being shot and falling off a roof," Goodnight laughed, eyes never leaving Faraday for a second, the effect rather like being trapped by the gaze of a cobra ready to strike.  
"I was an ass," Faraday admitted, twirling the cigarette between his fingers, slower than he would have liked, "I just thought you were a coward, unwilling to do what needed to be done after the war, but now-"  
"Now you know the demons I carry with me," Goodnight finished as Faraday faltered, unable to find the words to continue.  
"Exactly. Don't how you could still hang around with me after everything I did, hell I'm surprised Vasquez didn't just shoot me," Faraday continued, catching the match Goodnight tossed him, striking it with a practiced flick of his thumb, staring into the tiny amber flame for a long moment.

"You think I haven't done similar in my life? I'm a Southern boy, born and bred, travelling with a Korean and brothers with a black man. I messed up, I stuck my foot in it more times than I could count, but they forgave me, helped me out of the mess of my own creating."  
Goodnight's voice sounded like a sermon, stirring rises and falls, turning this small makeshift hospital into a fine church with high vaulted ceilings and stained glass for the briefest of moments, the harsh smell of rubbing alcohol shifting into the sweetness of incense.  
"We're a group now, all of us. We help each other," Goodnight finished, flashing Faraday a grin, gold tooth glinting, "Second chances."  
"Second chances," Faraday echoed, toasting Goodnight with the lit match before lighting the thin cigarette clamped between his teeth, coughing at the unexpected taste, head swimming.  
"Oh, these things are something else."

The doors swung open once more, more hurriedly than Sam had, and the doctor bustled in, staring over his shoulder into the dark eyes of Billy Rocks. And in the few seconds before the doors swung close, blocking him from the doctor’s view, those eyes dropped to Faraday, head inclining in greeting and forgiveness so greatly needed.


End file.
